Series
by that-girl-who-likes-dolphins
Summary: This will eventually be a series of fluffy oneshots revolving around Marco and Dylan. It is in no specific order, just whatever pops into my head whenever it does. Rated T to be safe
1. Anniversary

It rang, and it rang, and it rang some more. Marco had been listening to his cell phone ring for the last hour, but he was determined to not answer. He would let the caller be tortured. He would let the man be wonder what he was doing. He was mad. He was furious. He hated him! Yet even as Marco thought this, he knew that wasn't the reason. He let the phone ring because he knew that the moment he picked up the phone his anger would dissolve.

All Dylan would have to do was apologize and admit it was his fault and Marco would forgive him. That blond man had so much power over his boyfriend, but this time Marco wanted to stay angry at the older boy. What Dylan had done was humiliating, it just wasn't right and Marco was determined to hate him forever. What, exactly had Dylan done to make his boyfriend so upset? He had forgotten their anniversary.

This was, to the day, one year since they had begun dating. It was a Saturday and Dylan had come home for the weekend. Marco went to the Michalchuk's house to see him and give him his gift. When he got to the house he was excited to see his love's beloved car in the driveway. He hurried excitedly to the door and rang the bell. A sloppily dressed Dylan opened the door.

"Marco! Hey, what are you doing here?" He asked him while ushering him into the living room.

"Well," he said with a grin, "I just wanted to come by and see you on this momentous occasion."

Dylan gave the shorter boy a confused look, "Momentous?" he asked.

"Dyl," Marco started, "Do you not know what today is?"

"Um… no?" He responded nervously.

Marco just looked at him disgustedly. He had been looking forward to this and his beautiful blond was entirely clueless. "Really? Well, this is fantastic. Fine you don't remember. Oh well." He said becoming more sarcastic with his anger. He took a square box with a card attached out of his messenger bag, shoved it into his boyfriend's chest and said, "Here's your gift. Happy anniversary." With the last words he walked out of the room and out of the house.

Now here he was, an hour later, spending his anniversary alone, angry, hurt and sitting on his bed. Finally the ringing stopped and Marco breathed a sigh of relief. Now the constant guilt of not answering the phone could be replaced by the anger he urged himself to feel. The more he wanted to feel it though, the less he actually did.

Their first date had been disastrous, plus Dylan was busy and preoccupied. He was still adjusting to university and he had hockey all the time too. Marco thought more about the older boy. He had always been a little empty headed and forgetful. It was something Marco had always found endearing. Marco thought continued to think about it more and more. He had over reacted; he should have yelled at him a little and forgiven him, made it simple, but instead he stormed out without thinking. God, what a mistake!

With this sudden realization Marco jumped off his bed. He picked up his coat and hurried downstairs. Still slipping the sleeves onto his arms he threw the door open and stopped when he saw someone there. He looked into the guilty blue eyes with his own surprised brown ones, "Dylan? What are you doing here?"

"Well, uh," He said uneasily, "You left in such a hurry, then you wouldn't answer your phone, I just wanted the chance to apologize."

Marco stepped outside and closed the door. He nodded toward the porch swing. When they sat down he said, "Go on."

Dylan briefly looked away and then looked back, "Well, Marco, you know me. I can't remember a thing. I never could and I'll probably never be able to, but that doesn't mean I don't care."

Marco sighed, "I know Dylan. I just, I wasn't thinking about that when I left. I was upset. It felt almost like I wasn't important enough to remember."

Dylan scooted closer to the younger boy and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Baby, of course you're important enough. You are the most important thing in my life. I love you."

Marco's head snapped up at the words. Neither had ever said them to the other before. Dylan watched him expectantly. The natural response would have been to say the same words in return, but Marco needed to be sure that was how he felt. He quickly thought back on everything they had been through and done in the past year. Maybe he did love him. Otherwise, why would he have been so upset when Dylan forgot their anniversary? He went over every moment they had had together and paused on a smile Dylan had given him. It was completely innocuous, but it stuck out nonetheless.

At that moment it was clear. "I love you too Dylan." And neither had any doubt that it was true.

Marco wrapped his hands behind the blond's head and pulled him close for a kiss. They continued their passionate embrace for some time, but when they stopped Dylan remembered something, "You know, I still haven't opened that gift you gave me."

This news made the Italian boy very excited, "Really? Open it, open it, open it!"

Dylan laughed at Marco's child-like giddiness took out the box from a rather large coat pocket. He took off the wrapping paper and opened the box beneath it. He gasped when he saw the gift. It was a delicate small silver frame just right for a wallet sized picture. Inside the frame was an adorable picture of the couple. Dylan and Marco were both ice skating. The hockey player, being more accustomed to the ice, was leading his Italian boyfriend around the rink backward by holding tightly onto both of his hands. What wasn't pictured was the crowd of friends that had accompanied them, or moments later when both men had fallen onto the ice after one had lost his balance.

Dylan gasped at the sight because he had never known that such a picture existed. In addition he could almost see the connection buzzing between there fixed eyes as they stared at each other. It was absolutely amazing. Holding this wonderful gift in his hands Dylan felt the need to apologize again. The present made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world, however cliché that sounded. The blond once again pulled Marco into a loving kiss was reciprocated fully. When neither could go any longer without oxygen the broke apart and, between heavy breaths, Dylan said, "You and I are going out tonight. Wherever you want. It's all about you."

Marco chuckled at his eagerness, "Thank you, I'd like that." They smiled at each other and Dylan wrapped an arm around Marco. The younger boy leaned all his weight against him and they sat together watching the world go by. A few minutes later Marco found himself once again cursing a certain sound. His cell phone was ringing again, this time, though, he let it ring for a totally different reason.


	2. Wedding Day

**_Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Degrassi or any of it's characters._**

* * *

Dylan stood in front of a priest along with Marco, the man of his dreams. They had gathered before God and all their friends and family to announce their love. It was their wedding day. After a year of engagement and many years of dating they were finally getting married, and Dylan couldn't be happier. Thinking back through his life most of the happiest days of his life had been had with the man across from him. One that came to mind was the day he had been recruited by the Maple Leafs. At first he thought he could list this as a happy memory separate from Marco, but as he thought about it more he knew it wasn't true. Marco had been there to celebrate with him. He got rid of all their friends and roommates and made them a special dinner just for the occasion. And after that they 'celebrated' in a different, more private way. It was for their own good that Marco had gotten rid of them; they wouldn't have enjoyed listening to the celebration.

Most of his sad memories were pertaining to the younger man as well. Like the day Marco had broken up with him. He had been sad that day, he just hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. He told himself that this was what he wanted, freedom. The hockey player took advantage of that freedom for a while, but soon began missing what he had given up, or who to be more apt. It was about that time that Dylan realized just how truly sad he was, and had been since Marco had said they were through. He tried to convince himself otherwise, even began to date, instead of just fooling around, but nothing ever lasted, and he knew why. He knew exactly why. Marco. He had gone back home for him, determined to get him back. It took a few days and a lot of pain and yelling, but it happened. He had his Italian man back, and that, was another one of the happiest days of his life.

Dylan was brought out of his musings by the preacher before him. He was asking him to say his vows. It had been Marco's idea to write their own vows. He thought that the traditional vows were too impersonal, Dylan agreed on some level, but he was also terrified about having to write vows. He had never been much of an English student. He had more of an aptitude for maths and sciences. Marco could get almost anything from him though, Dylan hadn't the heart to tell him no. Dylan had been trying and trying all year to write down what he felt. There was so much going through his head, but nothing looked right on paper, or sounded right when he tried to say it. In the end it had done something very desperate. He went online. Not to copy vows or anything, but for inspiration. What he wound up finding was more than perfect, he would have to quote it word for word, but he knew enough to not let anyone believe they were his own words.

"Marco, you are the greatest inspiration I could ever hope for, but you know I can't write worth anything. So one day when I was on the computer I just happened to find a quote that made me think of you, of us, our relationship, 'Life is never perfect, and love is never what you want it to be. I don't know where we will end up, but I do know that we share a love. As we enter this new phase in our relationship, I feel a chance to begin again. Everyone knows how pearls are made, sand in an oyster's mouth... Well our love has encountered and will continue to encounter "sand" and other trouble... But as we work the best we can, we can make our own pearls. Someday when we are old and grey, we both will stand hand in hand on a beach of pearls and watch the waves come in, and know that our love has conquered all that has attempted to shatter it, and together we will be victorious.'" He stopped and took a breath, "I, Dylan Michalchuk, do promise to stand by you when sand is raining down on us. I will wait for them to become pearls with patience, never giving up on us, and I will cherish every pearl as a testament to our love and our life together. I love you." He concluded with a smile on his face.

The blond looked down at the man he had just sworn to be with forever and saw tears in his eyes. Both let them just fall down his face and Marco said his vows. They were completely original and wonderfully written. By the time they were done Dylan was near tears himself, but they didn't fall. He eagerly waited for the priest to say the words he so longed to hear. It was hard for him to not kiss the younger man, but he knew that there was a time for it, and it was after the rings, not before. The preacher blessed the rings and the two boys slid them onto each other's fingers with matching silly grins plastered across their faces. It had only been there for a moment, but already Dylan felt as if the band had lived on his finger his entire life. He never again wanted to be without it.

"You may now kiss the groom." The Father said finally. Without any further encouragement Dylan cupped the darker man's face and leaned down to give him a simple, but loving kiss. The power of it was only enhanced by the knowledge that it was the first of their married life, but definitely not their last. With a final, small noise the parted and stared at each other for a brief moment, just enjoying the fact that they were looking at their husband. Dylan could have dropped dead at that moment and he would have died happy, but he was incredibly grateful that that didn't happen, he still had so much living to do with the man next to him. Together they walked back down the aisle past everyone they knew and cared about. Dylan saw tears in his mother's eyes, along with Paige's. They both so loved Marco they were infinitely ecstatic when they had announced their engagement. Dylan winked at his little sister before gripping his husband's hand a little tighter and continuing down the aisle.

They stepped out of the building and into the limo that would take them to their reception. The second the door closed Marco was all over Dylan.

"Dylan, your vows, they were so beautiful, even if you did get that quote online. I love you so much." He said before continuing to kiss him. Dylan couldn't even get the chance to respond before Marco was straddling him and kissing his neck. For a second he could only think how glad he was that they were in a limo, where there was room for this kind of passion, then he realized they were in a limo on the way to their wedding reception, and Marco would regret it if their hair was as messed up as he suspected it was getting.

"Marco. Marco, you have no idea how much I'm enjoying this, but I think maybe this could wait, say, until after the reception." Dylan suggested gently pushing the younger man away from him.

Marco was still breathing heavily but responded anyway, "You're right. We have the rest of our lives to do this, but only tonight to celebrate our wedding with all our family and friends." He got off the blond as gracefully as he could, which wasn't very since they were in a car, and flipped down the little mirror in the ceiling. "Oh my God, what did I do to my hair?"

Dylan simply laughed and watched his new husband fix his hair meticulously. Here he was, the man he had vowed to love forever, no matter what. In that moment he knew that if he had too, he would do it again, in front of the entire world this time.

"Oh, Marco, I almost forgot, I have something for you."

"Oh really, what is it?"

"Here, open it and see." Dylan said handing him a small black box with a red ribbon around it. The Italian gently untied the bow then opened the box. He gasped slightly.

"Dyl, I love it." He said softly not moving his eyes from the gift. It was a single white pearl set in a silver oyster. He picked it up out of the box and saw that it was a lapel pin. Dylan leaned over and took it from his lover's hand to attach it to the coat of his tuxedo. When he was done he tilted his head to look into the other man's eyes. Their eyes met and Marco softly set his lips to his husband's. Despite having kissed each other many times this kiss felt new, as if they had never kissed each other. Both men had flashbacks at that moment. They were in high school again, sharing their first, shy kiss next to the dot, not thinking past the weekend.

The kiss ended and Dylan shocked Marco with the words, "What are you doing Friday?"

* * *

**_There you go, my second one-shot in this series. I got the idea for this one when I read that quote from Dylan's vows on it was said by this guy named Jerry Grant Blakeney, so I don't own that either btw. And if you've seen the episode _It's Raining Men_ even once where I've probably watched it a hundred times, you'll get what Dylan said at the end._**


	3. PostIts

Post-Its

Dylan turned over in his bed. He stretched out an arm to the opposite side of the bed finding it empty, again. At the realization of being alone he sighed from his semi-conscious state into a fully conscious one. He missed waking up next to his handsome young boyfriend. Fortunately, this was the last day. After today Marco would be finished with his final exams and would be free to spend everyday sleeping late into the morning in the arms of his love.

Another thing in their favor was the fact that this was Marco's last year of college. Dylan, of course, had finished two years earlier. As he lay staring at the ceiling above the bed he shared with his lover he thought of the future they could have together; of the future he wanted to have with Marco. He saw them either leaving their current house or getting rid of his sister and Ellie. He saw them getting married one day, maybe even one day soon. Whatever happened, at whatever pace, he knew that his future was with Marco.

Knowing that he couldn't go back to sleep, Dylan slowly got out of bed. He turned his body so that he was sitting on an edge with his feet on the floor and facing the bedroom door. There it was. The hated sight. Over the weeks when Marco had begun to spend more and more time focusing on school and less time at him he had taken to leaving small post-it notes around the house for his boyfriend to find.

Dylan knew that Marco's intentions were good, but he could not stop the feelings of animosity when he saw them. It was unreasonable, but the feelings were still there. Without looking at the note he knew the last lines of it, because they were always the same, "I love you. See you tonight." He shook his head and walked to his attached bathroom instead of toward the post-it wielding door. Dylan took a slow hot shower trying not to think too much about Marco or his stupid post-its; it didn't work.

He left the bathroom feeling more frustrated then when he entered it. He began pulling clothes out of the dresser, yanking open drawers and throwing out the needed articles. He stopped and leaned his elbows on top of the dresser, head falling to rest in his hands. Dylan began talking quietly to himself, "I don't want to be angry. I have no reason to be angry. I know he has to finish his courses, and it's a good thing he's so dedicated to his schoolwork. He'll get farther in work that way. But, goddamnit, why does that mean he has to neglect me?"

He went back and forth between angry and calm a few more times before settling on clam and getting dressed. The tall blond began to walk toward the door after dressing himself. He stopped briefly when he saw the post-it. He considered ignoring it, but then remembered it was from Marco. So far gone was Dylan that that single thought banished his frustration and animosity. He walked quickly to the door and snatched up the yellow square. Dylan slowly read the words, at first curious, and then confused. There, in Marco's rushed handwriting were these words:

Dylan,

I know I've been distant, and I want to thank you for your patience. You have to know something though: I lied to you. Yesterday was my last exam, not today. Come downstairs and I'll explain.

Marco

Dylan read over the note a few more times before fully comprehending it. Suddenly it struck him: Marco was waiting for him! He took off down the stairs and began running from room to room calling out his lover's name. There was no response and Dylan was beginning to worry when he walked into the living room.

There he was. Dylan's dejected face lifted; his frown was replaced by a smile. Happiness was soon replaced by shock. Marco wasn't just sitting or standing waiting in the living room, oh no, he was kneeling. And holding something small.

"Marco, what are you—?" The blond began.

Marco interrupted him, "Dylan, I know our time together so far hasn't been easy, and I don't expect it to get easier, but," he stopped to take a deep breath, "But I want to work through those hard times with you. Dylan, will you marry me?" He finished opening the box in his hand.

Dylan was speechless, to be perfectly honest, he had always thought he'd be the one to propose, but Marco had done it with much more eloquence than Dylan ever could have, and they both knew it.

The tall hockey player blinked a couple times before stammering his consent. With that all nervousness fled Marco's face. He stood and slid the simple platinum band on Dylan's finger and the tall man stared at it for a moment in disbelief. He blinked again and felt very girly all of a sudden. Feeling the urge to prove his 'manliness' he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, now fiancé, and laid a firm, but loving kiss on him.

That day the couple found a new use for the little squares Dylan had ceased to hate about the time he saw Marco in the living room. They stuck one on their front door announcing their engagement to anyone who came knocking, and on their bedroom door there was a warning, a plea to knock, and a post-it requesting that they not be disturbed.


End file.
